


Hot Cocoa Bombs

by traccigaryn



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Food Porn, Food Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut, There is an alien planet and then there is food and then there is sex. The end.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:35:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29572581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traccigaryn/pseuds/traccigaryn
Summary: "Beside her, Chakotay made a low noise, emanating from deep at the back of his throat.It was sinful, that noise. And not something she'd ever expected to hear outside of her fantasies."
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway
Comments: 9
Kudos: 72





	Hot Cocoa Bombs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coffeeblack75](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeeblack75/gifts).



Beside her, Chakotay made a low noise, emanating from deep at the back of his throat.

It was sinful, that noise. And not something she'd ever expected to hear outside of her fantasies. 

Slowly, features carefully blank, she glanced over at him. His tongue peeked between his lips, a flash, a tantalizing tease, then was gone again. He didn't seem to be aware of her or anything else around them, his eyes trained inward, his hand curled around a mug of hot chocolate.

Well, they didn't call it _chocolate_ , of course. It was … Kathryn tried to remember … _Pipka_. That was it. 

It was another diplomatic dinner on another planet they'd never visit again, and she'd spent the evening stifling her frustration and despair with the situation. She'd eaten. They'd laughed. The end was in sight.

Then servers had ceremoniously delivered a steaming milk-like liquid, mugs, and festively-decorated rounds of _pipka_ to the tables. 

The rounds were placed in the mugs. The milk-like substance was poured. "Watch!" their server had commanded. The _pipka_ bobbed and tilted. A crack formed. Suddenly, the round seemed to implode, melting into the cup and exhaling fluffy treats as it sank.

"Hot cocoa bombs!" Tom had proclaimed from three tables away. 

She and Chakotay had looked over at each other in amusement, then gamely stirred their hot cocoa — their _pipka_. They tipped their mugs in salute and turned away from each other again.

Then he'd made that sound. 

He stirred. Caught her eye. Returned to himself. "It's good," he said simply and took another sip. She waited, but he didn't make that noise again. 

Kathryn took a tentative sip herself. It was good. Bitter and sweet and with just a little bite. She felt her shoulders relax.

It wasn't a bad way to end an evening.

* * *

Kathryn tossed in bed, unable to sleep. Every time she thought she could finally drift off, that noise would come back to her: Chakotay's visceral, instinctive response to the taste and feel of something delicious in his mouth. 

She kicked the covers away from her legs, felt a slick slide, and buried her face in the pillow. 

"The man is allowed to enjoy himself," she said, her lecture muffled by pillow and want.

She lasted four more minutes. "Fine. Whatever. Fine," she muttered as she sat up. She rang for the attendant she'd been assured would be outside her door and which she'd assured herself she'd never bother. So much for promises. 

"Difficulty sleeping, Captain?"

"Yes, Nevar. I … could I trouble you for another glass of — what did you call it? The frothy white drink we had at dinner with the _pipka_? 

"Of course, Captain."

As she waited, she became conscious of her breasts, the heat between her legs. She closed her eyes and remembered that sound again. She imagined he'd been looking at her when he'd done it. Her hand trailed down her side, toyed with the hem of her nightgown. The tip of one finger caught in the fabric, pulled up, higher …

The doorbell chimed. Kathryn started and ran a hand across her face. What had come over her?

Nevar stood in the doorway, holding a tray of not-milk, a mug, and … a _pipka_ round.

Kathryn closed her eyes briefly. 

"Thank you, Nevar. This is wonderful. You don't have to wait out here all night. I'm just going to enjoy this and return to bed."

"If you're sure?"

"I'm very sure. Good night."

"Good night, Captain."

She waited another minute after he turned the corner, then slipped out of her room and next door. The doorknob turned easily. They weren't fond of locks here.

A fire burned low in the hearth. In a corner, she could sense Chakotay, the faint rasp of his breathing assuring her he was near.

The round in the mug. The steaming liquid. The childlike delight of watching it melt and reveal its treasure.

Kathryn stirred the drink until it was rich and smooth then made her way to the bed. She sat gently, the mattress barely moving.

She dipped a finger into the liquid. A moment of hesitation and then she trailed her finger down the line of his nose.

"Kathryn?"

His voice was raspy, but it was not startled.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Since you turned the doorknob."

"You need to teach me that someday."

"Why is there _pipka_ on my nose?"

She leaned down and lapped the bittersweet treat up.

He made _that_ noise again. 

* * *

They lay before the fire, blankets and pillows beneath them. 

Chakotay's hands, warm and large, pushed the nightgown up her legs. "Up," he murmured as they neared her hips, and then there was the silky slide of it along her shoulders, through her tresses.

She was bare before him. The fire glinted in his eyes, caught in the silver in his hair. She lifted a hand to trace along the curve of his cheek. He kissed her inner palm and raised his own hand to capture hers. Their hands trailed together down her side, much like she had done earlier in the evening, but this time she wasn't alone. Together, he coated the tips of their fingers in _pipka_.

The heat of it on her breasts made her moan. Left. Right. His mouth, licking their fingers clean, lapping at her nipples. 

Her back arched, and she pushed herself into him, silently begging him to continue.

Chakotay's teeth nipped and bit, licked and tantalized. The _pipka_ was painted onto her shoulders. Her stomach. Her lips. And for each stroke of sugar there was exploration and bliss.

* * *

"My turn."

He let her push him back into the blankets, gaze steady and sure.

Two fingers dipped back into the treat. Two fingers circled along the swollen tip of his cock. He hissed. _Pipka_ dripped and blended with a leak of semen. Kathryn's mouth closed around him, and he thrust up. 

Slowly, carefully, she licked him clean. Leaning up, she kissed him. Salt, sweet, heat. 

* * *

"Yes?"

"Oh yes."

He thrust and filled her. The _pipka_ was forgotten. All she knew was the feel of his chest against hers, the pounding of his cock, and the knowledge that here, tonight, it was enough. 

* * *

Chakotay set his dessert offering on the dining table in her quarters. A dozen _pipka_ rounds lay nestled within. She met his gaze, saw the challenge and hope there.

A smile slowly lifted her lips.


End file.
